


Single Parents are Single for a Reason

by kira892



Series: Two and two is four [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, babystuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira892/pseuds/kira892
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His icon is just sitting there, all bright and whatnot, mocking you. The plain narrow text that reads online next to his handle feels like it was leering at you, whispering “click it English, go on, I bloody dare you. Get your awkward, understandably single ass over here and make a ginormous blundering twat out of yourself in front of this attractive individual on your list of contacts.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Single Parents are Single for a Reason

His icon is just sitting there, all bright and whatnot, mocking you. The plain narrow text that reads online next to his handle feels like it was leering at you, whispering “click it English, go on, I bloody dare you. Get your awkward, understandably single ass over here and make a ginormous blundering twat out of yourself in front of this attractive individual on your list of contacts.”

 

You frown and John bounces in your lap, making happy little squeal-y noises as he tosses his favourite stuffed bunny in the air. Errr, well, he wasn’t quite old enough to have the coordination necessary to accomplish the simple task of throwing something in the air and catching it on its way down but he was doing his own version of it; holding the bunny at arm’s length and swinging his arms up and down. It was terribly adorable and distracted you enough to stop agonizing over your indecision and look down to grasp your son’s wrist, smiling a bit as you absently wave it around like you used to when he wasn’t even big enough to fit on your lap. You sigh.

“Daddy is a sad, sad creature.” You murmur to him, nuzzling into his hair and poking at his cheek.

John ignores you, choosing instead to gurgle and spew out some toddler gibberish before crushing his bunny to himself and rubbing his cheek against its snout affectionately.

After meeting Dirk and his son at the coffee shop almost a month ago, you’ve gone on several casual outings with the man. You’ve definitely gone on enough to know that a)he was a “single parent” like you b)that came about because of a drunken mishap with his bestfriend and they both decided to live up to their mistake like adults and are currently still good friends whilst sharing the responsibility of raising their child, c)you two get along extremely well because d)Strider was quite a charming, fun, witty, and undeniably attractive human being.

And no! that is not a compliment although you do find him quite attractive…focus! Point, Jake, is that, no one can deny that the man is good looking, it’s a simple fact. It doesn’t matter that you find him so attractive that you’ve been agonizing over asking him out on an actual, yes-this-is-me-proposing-a-possible-romantic-arrangement-between-you-and-I date, like you are now.

It’s just that…Ok, he was the one who contacted you first after you met and in all the times you saw each other afterwards, you’ve pieced together from the way he acted toward you that he’s…well, interested in you, like you are in him. You are pretty sure that’s the case but will asking him out this soon really be a good idea? Blasted heavens, lord knows that though you’ve seen many a great cinematic masterpieces with epic love stories, you’re as ham-fisted in matters of the heart as a samurai with a gun. The fact that you’re divorced at 23 with a kid and a measly year and a half of marriage behind you should be testament to that fact. You would rather throw yourself under a stampeding pack of mutated, super strong, centaur-esque hoof beasts than to rush into another relationship and potentially screw everything up again.

You start and shake your head when you see an IM window suddenly there on your screen. Curious, you bump your glasses up your nose and lean forward to examine what the automated parcel mistresses of the internet have brought you. Your eyebrows raise a fraction, your heartbeat increasing just a tad bit. It seems while you were stewing in neurotic nonsense, Dirk had upped and casually messaged you.

TT: Sup English.

TT: Are you there?

You suck in your lower lip and mindful of John, you reached out to type a quick response.

GT: Well, based off the fact that your blinding, creamsicle orange words are scorching my retinas with their atrociously vibrant hue at the moment I gather that yes, I am quite here :B

The icon near the bottom of your IM window that lets you know when he’s typing up a response lights up and you can almost see him rolling his eyes as he types, which makes you smile the littlest bit like a complete doofus.

TT: Your retarded gibberish seems to be in tiptop shape so that means you’re fully present and functional, good.

You laugh and shake your head, readjusting your hold on John when he lets out one of those random squeals of delight small children do and bounces in your lap as he shakes his bunny up and down.

TT: Anyway, in my agenda of contacting you tonight, the first order of business is to ask you a question.

You narrow your eyes curiously at the screen and told that juvenile part of your brain that never grew out of your embarrassing highschool romance mentality to shut the fuck up, you’re not living in a bad romcom and he isn’t about to coincidentally ask you out right now.

GT: Interesting, alright, ask away old chap.

TT: You’ve yet to mention your ex-wife’s name to me but, does it happen to be Jane Crocker?

You’re glancing back and forth between John (who seems to be twisting around to face you and you’re being a responsible parent and ready to oblige him in case he wanted something) and the screen at that moment and you do a double take just to make sure you ‘re reading what Strider typed correctly. You dare say, you have a bad feeling about this.

GT: …

GT: Is this some creepy, psychotic ploy that requires my full denial?

GT: Have you been stalking me? Are you about to murder my ex- wife out of jealousy and the overwhelming, twisted but utterly understandable obsession you have with me?

TT: I would point out the universe of errors with that accusation but I have previous plans for this evening and none of them involve wasting some of my precious time and effort banging my head against the metaphorical, dense, indestructible wall that is your stupidity to try and make it realize how completely doped up on apeshit retardation it is.

TT: Also, I asked because a message had been left in my inbox by a Miss Crocker earlier. It was rather… interesting.

You gulp nervously and made a mental note to call Jane later and flip your shit in a manner that depends on what Dirk says next.

GT: *whips out handkerchief to inconspicuously dab at forehead while looking around in a totally not nervous manner* I see. What exactly did she tell you?

TT: My next order of business was to ask you out and from that I believe you can infer what she said, but since you asked, I believe her precise words were “I am terribly sorry to bother you but it seems my clueless derp of an ex-husband is quite taken with you. He’s been spazzing at me with his sensitive school boy problems for the past 2 weeks and though I care for him dearly, it’s really getting rather annoying. Would you do him a favor and ask him out? Thank you and have a nice day.”

You stare at the screen with your mouth hanging open for a long time and when you’ve fully processed what you read, you don’t know if you wanted to drive over to Jane’s and yell at her or drive over to Jane’s and kiss her.

TT: Hello? Are you still there?

You shake your head to knock yourself out of the stupor you were in and quickly typed up a response.

GT: Sorry, just a little…surprised is all.

TT: Understood. So?

GT: So what?

TT: Do you want to go out with me tomorrow or not?

GT: Oh! Umm, you mean, go on a date and stuff?

TT: I believe, in the English language, which was what we’ve been using for the past few minutes by the way, that’s what asking someone out means.

You feel yourself blush and it took you several seconds to type out a response.

GT: I don’t know, I might not feel like going on a date with a condescending douche such as yourself.

TT: Alright, that’s cool.

Your fingers are flying over the keyboard before you get to the period at the end of his response.

GT: NO NO NO, I WAS JUST KIDDING, I’D LOVE TO, I MEAN YES, YES YES YES.

TT: Calm your tits Jake, I was just kidding. I’ve been meaning to ask anyway, for quite a while actually. I was sort of waiting for you to show any hints that you’ve caught on before I do anything and I’m almost to the point of clobbering you and dragging you back to my cave by the hair.

The straightforwardness (not to mention the unnecessary sassiness) of the statement, although very Strider, and hence something you should have fully expected from him still catches you somewhat off-guard and you stare, unmoving at your screen for several moments before a wide smile slowly creeps up your face and you shake your head, feeling silly and giddy as you type up a response.

GT: Egad do I ever feel silly….well, this is sufficiently awkward, not to mention embarrassingly teenager-esque. I believe I’ve got your signals perfectly clear but I wasn’t sure and I just didn’t want to make a raging arse out of myself in case I was wrong.

TT: Jake, you make an arse out of yourself all the timefwsdads

GT: ???

TT: Sorry. Dave just frikking bit me.

GT: Oh, little David is with you right now?

TT: Yeah. Lil’ man is teething or some shit, keeps putting stuff in his mouth and chewing on them. It’s my turn to watch him til the end of the week and I was thinking of dropping him off at Roxy’s early tomorrow morning so I can go on, god forbid, a completely unironic man date with you.

No, you are not grinning your face off at your screen. Not at all, nope. You’re just flexing your cheek muscles, yeah, let’s go with that. You’re definitely not stupidly happy that Strider seems to be really serious about asking you out.

GT: Well, John is with me at the moment, you don’t have to pester miss Lalonde, just bring Dave over to our place. We can double date :p hahaha

TT: Only you would find it acceptable to romantically set up infants, one of which is your own.

GT: Oh shush the fuck up, I was just kidding. But seriously, just come over you two. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Besides John is supposed to be with me until next week, Jane is off in Washington visiting her dad and I don’t really have access to any sitters right now so,

TT: You seriously want to go on a baby date?

GT: Well when you put it that way, it sounds so…gay. But to be fair, isn’t this arrangement nothing short of that?

TT: Touche’

TT: Alright, my irony meter is going apeshit motherfucking bananas on this endeavour, we’re doing this man, we’re making it happen. I’m busting out the vomit-inducing-ly pink baby bag that Roxy bought, filling it up with all the smuppet-themed bottles and diapers and shit and showing up at your front door tomorrow wearing the most pink, frilly homosexual baby harness if there ever was one. I’ll bring my baby so he could be a cute motherfucker with your baby and we’ll sit on your couch, sipping tea and discussing the merits of chew toys and diapers. We’ll be so ironically gay that Rick Santorum would spontaneously heave up his guts, fall to the floor writhing in agony and combust in sparkly rainbow-colored flames.

GT: Jesus Christ Strider XD

TT: In all seriousness though, tomorrow afternoon at your place? Let’s say an hour after 12?

You sober up from the slight giggle fit that his ridiculous, inane paragraph caused you and the giddiness in your gut spikes, so much that you feel your breath hitch a little. This is totally, really happening.

You take in a breath and resist the urge to do or say something silly like typing out a less than three as part of your answer.

GT: Yeah. Yeah, that sounds smashing. It is totally a thing that we could do.

TT: Awesome.

TT: Also, don’t you dare type a shitty internet heart you huge goob.

That makes you smile for some reason and you temporarily hide your face in John’s hair before typing out your response.

GT: I wasn’t gonna!

TT: Yes you were.

GT: Alright fine…I might have thought about it. But I didn’t because you’re an a-class a hole and you don’t deserve <3

TT: <3 watch you fail to resist the urge to respond to this.

You kind of hate and love how he knows you so well and you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling as if he knows(which he probably does) that you’re about to and he can see you.

GT: asdafsfd fiddlesticks you’re insufferable. Argh, fucking, fine!<3 there.

TT: You’re cute English. And I totally mean that, yes homo, no irony whatsoever. Be fucking grateful that I’m admitting it.

Fine, you admit it, you’re grinning your face off now.

GT: *blush* *double pistols and a wink*

TT: Alright, Dave is being really antsy and shit, think the little dude’s hungry. I’m going to go engage myself in parental duties. I’ll see you tomorrow?

GT: Okay, and yes, I shall indeed see you tomorrow. Night Dirk.

—————————timaeusTestified ceased pestering golgothasTerror———————

You stare at your screen for about a minute after he logs off and then, grateful that no one’s there to see you, you stand up and happily start dancing around your room, swinging John around, laughing and grinning like the biggest, happiest idiot ever.

 

=======================

He shows up on time, actually wrapped up in an ironically atrocious, bright pink baby harness from which Dave peers up at you unhappily and though it really shouldn’t have surprised you, you two still spend a solid ten minutes arguing about his stupid, eccentric views on the concept of irony. It feels so ordinary and natural and it would’ve gone on for longer, had Dirk not leant forward and casually brushed his lips against your cheek.

For the record, you totally hold it together, like the suavest gent on gent island and you do not stutter and stumble around awkwardly after remembering that oh right, you like him and he likes you too.

You proceed, in your completely non-awkward manner to behave accordingly, in a style that is in accordance to the circumstance. And find yourself surprised that technically being on a date seems to be no different than an ordinary visit between the two of you. It’s rather comforting actually.

You almost forget that this interface between the two of you is supposed to be romantic, almost. You remember it like the most pleasant slap to the face (If that even makes any sense. Maybe you should start cutting back on your metaphor usage) when, in the middle of watching X2, his arm suddenly snakes over your shoulder and like absolutely nothing is different, begins an argument about the damper put on Rebecca Romjin Stamos’ hotness by being decked out in plastic blue spikes and a shitfuck ton of blue paint, all the while playing with strands of your hair.

It is acutely hard to maintain the concentration you need in order to defend one of the most alluringly cerulean fictional ladies of all time while Dirk is tangling his fingers in your hair and lightly rubbing at your scalp but you somehow manage. And doing that holds your attention long enough that you really don’t notice at all how he subtly uses his hold on you to bring the two of you closer until you’re completely pressed together in the middle of your couch.

You pause midrant as you become hyperaware of every warm inch of his side pressed up against yours and you stay silent like a total tool, just staring at him for 3 awkward seconds before you open your mouth and say the first random thing that your brain can cuss up.

“Didn’t think you were the cuddly type Strider,”

Dirk smirks at you and he’s so close that you feel his breath on your face when he speaks. “Only on special occasions.” he says.

You bashfully return his smirk. “Oh, is this a special occasion?”

A pale eyebrow quirks and you get the feeling he wants to roll his eyes. “I don’t know, is it?” he asks.

“Seeing as how I was sort of obsessed with you, I’d say yeah.”

You meant it as a joke…you think? It came out softly and you’re kinda sure you were looking at him with the stupidest, slightly lovestruck expression on your face and your eyes widen, shouting expletives at yourself for doing and saying stuff without thinking first.

Dirk just looks at you blankly and were you not so busy drowning in the endless loop of ‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY ENGLISH?!?!?!’, you’d have seen the amused smirk he’s hiding and realized he’s witholding it on purpose to make you squirm.

“…Can you uh…can you pretend I didn’t say obsessed?”

One corner of Dirk’s mouth turns the tiniiiiest bit upward. “Sure.”

Oh the things you would do to run into a wall and smack your face against it at this moment. Honestly, what the hell did Jane ever see in you? She was obviously not in her right mind when she married you, thank every holy deity that you both saw the light, better late than never. You are a goob, you are a derping, blundering twat-hole. You are the over lord of all things creepy and awkward it is you.

As if the pathetic shreds of your ego are even solid enough to sill be salvaged, your 1 year old has to come up and save you from further embarrassment. You remember that the kids are on the floor playing with some blocks and other baby junk when a delighted croon floats up to the two of you and you look down to see its source. John is pulling himself up to his feet, grabbing at tiny fistfuls of Dirk’s pant leg to do so. When he sees that his actions have caught his support beam’s attention, he grins and gurgles. You smile, mentally gushing over how cute John’s front teeth are. They stand like three lone upside down pillars protruding from his upper gums, the only ones there are in the otherwise empty expanse of John’s gums. Dirk takes his arm away from your shoulders to reach down and pick him up. He tries to sit John on his lap but the second he’s settled, he grabs at Dirk’s shirt and pulls himself to his feet. Dirk supports him so he doesn’t slip and good-naturedly allows it when John coos at his shades and pulls them off his face.

“Hey, hey, hey. No.” Dirk says, gently pulling the shades away from John’s little hands when he attempts to put it in his mouth. John just babbles some baby nonsense and starts papping Dirk all over the face. You chuckle heartily at the adorable way Dirk’s face wrinkles and you look down at Dave, wanting to be silly with a kid too.

“Hey there little chap, want to come over here and play with uncle Jake?” you ask, holding your arms out toward the younger Strider.

Dave looks up from the blocks he was trying to stack together, stares at you blankly and goes back to what he was doing.

You hear an amused snort and you turn your head to pout at Dirk. You snatch John away from him and cuddle him like an offended baby. “Give me my kid back and go be cute and cuddly with your snobby, mean one.” You say.

Dirk rolls his eyes and slips his shades back on. He says nothing to you but he turns his attention to his son and pats his knees twice. “Dave, cuddle time.”

Your eyebrows attempt to disappear into your hairline and your jaw drops a little when Dave abandons his blocks without a second thought and obediently pads over to Dirk who picks him up and sets him down on his lap. It’s so strange to watch because the two of them both keep bland poker faces on as they do it, not saying a word.

“What the-… how even-…? I give up, Striders are the most puzzlingly strange wackos ever.”

John suddenly squirms free of your hold and you watch as he crawls over into Dirk’s lap and happily hugs Dave.

Dirk raises his eyebrow. “If I may point out like a totally obnoxious ass; your kid seems to like us well enough.”

You open your mouth to say that you don’t but before you can, Dirk leans forward and kisses the words away. You stare at him, stunned and he raises his eyebrows at you. You open your mouth and sputter out some incoherent nonsense before sighing and muttering “Oh fuck it.” You lean forward and engage him in a proper kiss and your face feels warm when you pull away.

“Obnoxiousness doesn’t deserve to be rewarded with kisses, but I figure this whole thing would probably be pointless without them.”

Toy your surprise, Dirk bursts out laughing and you worry that you’ve gone beyond making a complete ass out of yourself and descended into a whole new level of imbecile nirvana until he smiles and tilts his head down to peer at you from beneath the frames of his shades.

“You. Are. Beyond. Useless. At. This. Shit…but then again, here’s living proof that I am no better than you.” He says, gesturing to Dave with both hands. “So I suppose, we should do ourselves a favor and stick with each other from now on.”

For a long moment you just stare at him, and slowly, slowly, you smile.

“Yeah. I think we should do that too.”


End file.
